


Coming Home

by schiffty



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Ben Solo is dead for a bit and pouts about it, F/M, Loss of Virginity, Reylo Baby, TRoS FixIt, Temporary Character Death
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-04
Updated: 2020-01-04
Packaged: 2021-02-27 15:07:43
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,858
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22119148
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/schiffty/pseuds/schiffty
Summary: Death, as experienced by Ben Solo, is lonely and uneventful. Until one day it's not, and he meets Ben Skywalker.Ben Solo tries to treat the kid better than his voices in his head.
Relationships: Rey/Ben Solo | Kylo Ren
Comments: 6
Kudos: 132





	Coming Home

Death isn’t what Ben Solo expected. Skywalker’s teachings had given him some parameters, no one is ever really gone. The Jedi religion some dogma, become one with the Force. And his near-death hallucination on Endor’s moon and/or the Force ghost of his father had left an impression that he too would have the ability when the time came. 

But, it didn’t. 

His latent hope to visit Rey, to see her alive and hearty, not distraught on a cave floor, was never fulfilled. Ben doesn’t know why. But all of his facilities besides thought had been stripped of him upon death.

In fact, nothing came of his death. 

Well — not that his death meant nothing. It meant Rey is still breathing while he exists in some strange plane of non-existence. 

But in his afterlife, he never reunited with his family or enemies or even his childhood schoolmates who predeceased him. 

For a while, he felt like he was in one of those long sleeps where you drift in and out of consciousness for hours or days or years. A kind of sleep he only rarely enjoyed as a young teenager, where only his exhaustion from physical training at the Academy and rapid growth could overcome the voices in his head. He didn’t fully realize he was dead back then, and was only reminded when a sharp, semi-regular pain exploded where the bond used to occupy.

Now, Ben is more ‘awake’ than not. But alone. 

He doesn’t know how long has passed since Exegol. Or if it was the bond that caused this abyss. Perhaps this is his own personal hell for all the horrible things he’s done. Why should he be able to reunite with those whose life he’s made a living hell? It’s this line of thinking that has him believing the Endor debacle was truly a delusion because Han Solo could never, ever forgive him.

At other times Ben thinks himself foolish, because if the Force was punishing him, wouldn’t he be subjugated to his uncle until the end of time? That may be just deserts for his decade of war crimes.

Luke Skywalker never made an appearance. Not to gloat, as he often did in life when he was right. Nor to lecture him about succumbing to his passions that led him here. Not one “What the kriff were you thinking? Resurrection? Where did you hear of that bathashit?”

Being dead has only one upside for Ben. He can’t feel the passage of time or even confirm that time has indeed passed, so boredom doesn’t bother him. If it weren’t for the uncertainty and the now dulled pain of his severed bond, Ben wouldn’t mind being dead. It beats having to apologize to Dameron for interrogating the arrogant pilot years ago. Or listening to a Luke Skywalker lecture until the end of time. Or looking into his mother’s disappointed —

There were certainly worse states to be in. 

Even if he did have to exist without Rey, it was alright because she got to live, even without him. And Ben is somewhat content to wait for her and hopes that she will gone for a while yet.

Until, one day, he wakes from his death slumber blinking, which first causes great alarm. His own plot of existence wasn’t something that required sight or any other sensory input. To him, death is like a warm sunset that you could only imagine while stuck with your own thoughts. 

But then he is blinking, and it is bright, and there is a child of all things.

The child is sitting cross legged with eyes scrunched shut, focusing very hard for such a small thing. In front of the child is a pebble, obviously the focus of attention, as evidenced by the child’s soft grunts. 

“That’s not how the Force works.” Ben mentions, unhelpfully. 

He can speak? 

The child’s eyes flew open, panicked. He can speak, and this child can hear him?

“Mummy!?” The child calls as they look around, abashed.

Audio and visual capabilities restored, but he can only see the child in shades of grey.

“Can you see me?” Ben ventures.

The child stands, abandoning the pebble and rubbing little hands across their tunic. 

“A-are you the Force?”

Ben can’t help but laugh. He hasn’t heard a joke since such a lot time. Probably something Rey said when trying to disembowel him and he was trying to seduce her.

“I can’t see you, so you can’t be a ghost.” The child deduces. Ben would have to agree with his lack of corporal form. 

Ben briefly wonders what poor training this child has endured that led them to believe that was a good attempt at meditation. He starts with: “How old are you?”

“Five.”

“And how long have you been training?”

“My mum won’t let me. She says I’ll have time to do Jedi stuff when I’m older. And I’m too little.”

Ben doesn’t disagree. Even his parents waited until he was done with primary schooling to be shipped off to the Academy. 

If Ben could shrug, he would. But then he feels like he blinks and the child, pebble and all, are gone.

And he’s alone again and feeling drained, drifting off into a longer sleep than he has in a while, dreaming of life.

\--

Ben doesn’t how long it has been since the last time he’s connected with the child with the pebble, but the next time he sees them, they’ve grown.

“Hello there,” Ben calls when he blinks to find a slightly larger version of the child.

And learned proper meditation technique. Because the child ignores him at first, being able to keep focus.

“Hello!” Ben all but bellows, not wanting to miss his only chance in years to speak to another being. “Can you hear me?”

The child’s eyes burst open in surprise. They’re a deep brown, and familiar, and it’s the first color he’s seen since he slumped back in Rey’s arms, glad the last thing he saw was her hazel eyes.

The child stands. “You’re back,” they say cautiously. 

“Seems so.”

“It’s been almost two years.” The child commented. “But it looks like there is a shape of a person, now.”

“I can’t control much. I am sorry. What do I look like?”

The child considers it for a moment, “Like a blue outline in the sand. But fuzzy.”

“Hmm.”

“I thought you were a dream. That’s what my uncle said it was. That I fell asleep while trying to lift rocks.”

“I don’t think I am dream, but I can’t prove that.” Ben doesn’t see a reason to give this possible hallucination any false hope because they are still a child after all. He’s avoided cruelty to children as much as possible thus far in his existence.

“What are you?” The child asks.

“Dead, that’s all I can tell you.”

“Can? Or will?” The child quirks an eyebrow. Their hair is a curly sandy blonde, Ben notices for the first time.

“Can.” Ben says it like a promise.

“What’s your name?”

“I can’t remember” He lies, not wanting to air out his sins with a seven-year-old.

“Well, my name’s Ben Skywalker. But everyone calls me Benny.”

Skywalker? Ben Solo feels like his head is swirling while he attempts to search for some explanation — 

“Like Rey Skywalker,” Benny Skywalker continues.

The shoe drops. And the empty bond feels like it was a fresh saber wound, like it was still pulsating from cauterization. 

“Rey Skywalker?” He can’t help but press. He can’t believe two things. The first being the name. It’s a choice. The second —

The boy, Benny apparently, nods. “As in the Last Jedi.”

“Oh.” There’s another pulse of pain where his bond should be.

How long has it been? Rey’s moved on. Of course, she’s moved on. He’s dead, and she is beautiful. Besides what did they really share really? The year after Crait, all they did was share longing looks and occasional duels. What could Kylo Ren and Ben Solo possibly be but a single chapter in Rey’s life?

“And your father?” Ben gasps like it hurts. Because it certainly does.

“I’m adopted, like my sister. We don’t have a father. But we have Uncle Finn and everyone else at the Temple.”

Ben is selfishly overjoyed. He allows himself to relish for a moment in the fact Rey’s adopted boy is named after him. That she could find happiness without replacing him.  
The joy goes as quickly as it came. Shame fills him, rushing in like a boat taking on water. They promised each other they wouldn’t be alone. A promise he never fulfilled, and he shouldn’t expect her to mourn him for the rest of her life.

He wants to ask more about Rey but feels like he doesn’t deserve to learn more. So, he settles for something a little further away: “Can you tell me about the Temple?” 

And Young Skywalker does. Ben hears about the boy’s older sister, who was orphaned when her parents flew with the Resistance at Exegol. Her name is Dez, short for Desdemona, and her lightsaber is purple. The others at the Temple are mostly adults, some with children younger than Benny Skywalker, and there are some teenagers that split their time between their home plants and Ajan Kloss. Rey only recently started Young Ben’s formal training, albeit slowly. FN-2187 is a staple of the new Temple as well, apparently Force sensitive, and he is called “uncle”. Ben is glad that FN-2187 thinks he is a dream.

The boy talks to him for a long time until Ben Solo found himself drifting off again into his personal abyss. This time, thankfully, for a much shorter nap.

\--

The next time the Force deigns to connect Ben Solo with his namesake, there is no noticeable difference in the boy’s size. This time, the boy is obviously with other people with the way Young Skywalker’s eyes grow round and makes hurried excuses to those around him. 

Like in the bond Ben Solo once shared with Rey Nobody, he doesn’t have to move to keep up. Not that he can move, exactly.

“It’s you!” The boy greets him with a smile. “I can’t talk to you in the mess, or Mum will make me practice shielding again.”

“Does she know you’ve seen me?” Ben was hopeful for a moment. If Rey knew, perhaps she could connect with him too. Help him figure out the afterlife and, hundred times more importantly, see her again.

“She heard me talking to you last time. She wasn’t very happy I was hearing things. I spent weeks shielding with her. I’m not very good at it.”

“It’s a bit advanced for a seven-year-old.” Ben tries to comfort him.

“Did you know you’re more solid this time?” 

“I can’t see myself.”

The boy looks deep in thought, “What can you see?”

“Just you.” Ben comments lightly. At first not remembering when the last time he’s said that. But when he does, he frowns. Or at least feels like he is frowning.

Young Skywalker squints, “I can almost see you. Like you’re just far away, even though you’re close.” 

“Am I more blue?” Ben asks, curious.

“Yes! I thought you were a Force ghost like in Mum’s stories, but they always look like people.” The boy crosses his arms, still squinting up and down. “Does this mean you’re a Sith?”

“There are no more Sith.” At least, Ben knows he isn’t a Sith. But he doesn’t want to scare his only companion in Gods know how long.

“They’re dead. But, so are you.”

“Sith ghosts don’t ask kids about their day. They haunt their dreams and ruin everything good.”

“You still look like a fuzzy blue glow, not a Force ghost.”

“I suspect that I am not exactly one with the Force.”

“Where are you when you’re not talking to me?”

“Asleep? Or it feels like it.”

“Is what being dead’s like?”

“That way I do it, yes.” Then Ben Solo asks, “Have you met a Force ghost?”

“Just whatever you are. My mum’s seen Luke Skywalker and Leia Organa.”

A familiar pang of envy rolls in like thunder. But he’s not sure who most deserves to be the target of it. The kid for seeing Rey every day? Rey for spending more time of his families’ afterlife with them than he ever will? Or his family for having a normal death experience? Probably all of the above. 

Ben has another question on his lips when he blinks, and he’s back into the abyss. Awake, this time, but still alone.

\--

After a few more sessions with Benny Skywalker, whose mother is convinced that Ben Solo is a Palpatine come again to haunt the young mind of a Force sensitive child, Ben Solo almost stops drifting off into unconsciousness completely. 

His rests are more like naps than comas. He has more time to think. His memory is more visual than it was previously, and he chooses to dream of his stolen moments with Rey through the blond. The glimpses. The challenging stares. Their duels are always fun to revisit because nothing sings as true to him as when they danced in step with the Force.

Well, almost nothing. 

The few times the bond snapped open at on the off chance that their sleep schedules aligned, even with his hectic and ever-changing sleep schedule with the First Order, their encounters were softer. Like when they first touched hands. Or the first time they kissed like it was a secret they needed to keep from themselves. 

Their first kiss happened after a particularly tiring day for both. The Force connected them while they were on their respective cots, facing one another. Their connection sung with longing and regret as they stared, neither daring to move, until they were both falling in and out of consciousness, not wanting to lose the staring contest. Then, right as Kylo Ren was truly falling asleep, Rey Nobody’s thumb ghosted over his lips then it was quickly replaced by her own.

Barely a kiss. 

Something they never addressed or revisited the intimacy for months. 

Until one evening, he awoke to Rey staring at him in his sleep, as if she was keeping watch. Within a moment, they were entwined with limbs and teeth. The Force connection breaking before it could escalate much further.

It became an unspoken rule, the few connections at night were sacred, and the days were for staring contests and rivalry as usual.

At that point, he attempted to get more sleep to increase his chances of catching her in his artificial night on his Star Destroyer. But laying in bed for hours wouldn’t help his chance of sleep or seeing Rey.

A month before he found the Wayfinder on Mustafar, their stolen kisses turned into more.

For the first time, the Force wasn’t shutting them down within the first few brush of lips. The bond held strong as they sunk into each other. Desperately trying take as much as they can in whatever short time the Force would give them. 

Before long, his hands wandered from where they were anchored on her hips. Her hands roamed through his hair, as he moaned, demanding more. More than necking like teenagers. More than a few stolen kisses. More than what the Force gave them. More than she’s probably willing to give.

But she was with him as she groped blindly down his body, trying to map everything with her fingers. Her clever fingers itching to tinker and learn and fix. She can’t fix him, he’s not a ship. His sins taint his soul but while Rey looked at him like that, he couldn’t care less.

Rey’s back arched, giving him access to her neck as he rolled her nipples through her thin shift. He shifted his weight, wanting to turn them over. Rey hesitated for a second then allowed it, and he landed between her toned thighs, rubbing against her center. 

When he gasped at the contact, Rey took the opportunity to flip them over and pin him down, holding his arms above his head. She smirked at him as she experimentally rubbed against his tented pants and basked in his helpless groans. 

“Rey-” he started, wanting to say something profound and emotional but finds that he could not when she begins to pant in his ear. Her breath tickling his ear as she ground down onto his covered length. The sound was heavy with want and he couldn’t think straight.

She can’t keep his arms immobile for long, and when she becomes engrossed in their rubbing, he is able to escape her vice grip and lose his fingers in her hair. He may’ve pulled too hard because she pulls away from the nibbling her neck to place her forehead against his. 

The man who called him Kylo Ren looked up into those hazel eyes, heavy and bright, “Rey.” He all but growled as he pounded up into her, trying to get as close as he could through their Sithspit clothes. 

“Can I?” She all but breathed, the words washing over him.

And he didn’t know what exactly she meant but it didn’t matter. She could have anything. Do anything to him. As long as let him touch her.

Then she’s breaking contact from him, leaning back, and scaring the banthashit out of him. When she grabbed the hem of her sleep tank, he was so relieved he could cry. He reached to help her but only bumped into her face first. She huffed a laugh as she pushed him back down playfully. Her perfect breasts bounced as she sat up and off him to remove her sleep shorts. 

She all but ripped his shirt off of his back, eager and worried about the time they still have left. When he reached to strip off his trousers, she whined, “There’s no time.”

And there’s never enough time. Not for them. 

He reached out, grasping for her, desperate to touch again as their lips reunited. Teeth clashed somewhat in their desperation. They both pawed his trousers down his thighs, freeing his aching cock. The first touch of skin to skin almost had him coming on first contact. The warmth. The wetness. Rey. It was too much.

They stilled for a moment, and Rey looked directly into his eyes, understanding. Her next experimental movement, his cock caught at her entrance. She looked fascinated as she pushed down slowly, testing the waters. And for a movement, he assumed she knew more than he did about this.

A thought extinguished when she pushed down swiftly, going too deep and crying out in pain. Overeager and too worried about losing their connection before—

She was so tight that he could hardly breathe without sinking further into her wet folds. He attempted to pry her off, but she refused, determined to make it work. His hand snaked between them, as he’s done before in their late-night trysts. Rubbing in tight circles in the way he knows she likes; she begins to relax in his arms. 

Rey meets his hungry mouth again, pliant and ready for softer kisses. Kisses like their first. Exploratory yet needy, not like their saber duels. He could feel her tension melt away through their bond, and she began to roll her hips just so.

It takes everything he had to not buck up into her. Before long, her hips became urgent in their movements. And she couldn’t kiss and keep up her tempo. He kept the circles on her clit steady, alternating between clockwise and counterclockwise.

Rey rested her forehead against his; nodding, finally giving him permission to kriffing move. And he takes it, trying to keep in time with her but utterly failing. He couldn’t last much longer with her sighs and how her cunt grips him, and it felt like it was getting tighter. 

Oh, and the bond. Their bond was absolutely singing with the rightness of it. And there was it building between them.

Then she speeds up, chasing and he just couldn’t— 

“Ben,” she whispered out as he came, pressing them together as hard as she could, her cunt milking every last drop. He could barely think and only look up at her in wonder. 

When their breathing returned to normal, she gave him a shy smile— 

And she was gone. Like all good things in his life.

They only shared one more night together before the end. A night so anxious and quick, he couldn’t savor it. 

At least, he got to kiss her once as Ben Solo before he went.

\--

Ben and Rey’s son connect more regularly. According to the kid, it happens more and more frequently until it occurs once every two weeks. Their conversations last for a few minutes or half an hour, never more. The kid always makes time for his dead friend. Sometimes they talk about Jedi philosophy, sometimes he gives the kid pointers on saber stances, but a lot of the time it’s just idle chatter.

In life, Ben wasn’t one for small talk. But as a lost soul, it’s the only escape he has from himself.

“You’re almost a full person,” The kid comments just after his ninth birthday. “Your face is just shaded.” 

Ben’s started to notice on his own, he redeveloped his nose some months ago and when he looks down, it’s almost like he’s been put back together. His hair is sometimes in his face. And he can gesture again, or at least the kid can sense what he’s gesturing. The kid is after all, rather astute when it comes the Force because no one else can see him.

“Have you spoken to your mother about me?”

“She knows. I haven’t told her since the second time, but she knows we talk. She’s scared. I overheard her talking to Dez. She wants to take us on a trip to the first Jedi temple.”

“Ahch-to?”

“She thinks I’m off balanced. That a Force nexus would help me.”

“You are probably more entuned with the Force than anyone to be speaking with me. No one can speak to me. Not even my family, and the Force is strong in my family.”

It’s not the first time he’s mentioned his family to Benny Skywalker, but he still refuses to give a name when pressed. Rey wouldn’t be happy to discover after all this time it was him in her precious son’s head. 

“How did you know my mum then?” the kid looks up at him, all freckles and confused looks.

“How do you mean?” 

“I told you that I was Rey Skywalker’s kid years ago. And you knew who she was. How could you?”

“What do you mean?”

“How could you know my mother if you’ve never spoken or seen others since you’ve died?”

“I was alive when she was the Last Jedi,” Ben says, deciding to go for the overbroad answer. 

“Did your body disappear when you died?”

“I’m not certain,” Ben doesn’t see how this was relevant.

“Are you Ben Solo?” He demands. 

Ben is debating his answer when he feels something. A tug where the bond should be. A tug that is sharp and panicked.   
Then he sees her. Older but as beautiful as the last time he saw her. She’s wearing grey robes instead of the white, and she looks terrified.

Rey of Jakku storms towards her son, pushing to put herself in between the Bens. He saber is ignited and the bright yellow feels blinding.

She opens her mouth to—

Then he’s blinked away before she could scream at him for corrupting her son.

Yet, he still got to see her. Once in how many years? In his abyss, he feels like smiling because he was right. Once more was enough.

\--

He’s awake but he doesn’t see Benny Skywalker for much longer than usual. Ben tries not to feel too disheartened as he got a bonus last trip.

His isolated existence continues.

Until his mother appears. 

It would’ve been strange to reunite with his mother if they had both lived. He hadn’t seen her in person since he was what? 17? 18? Holo comms are useful but they can’t tell you how small your mother feels in your arms after a dozen physical years apart. 

“Oh, Ben.” The great Leia Organa whispered comfortingly, as if she heard his thoughts.

“Mom. Why did it take this long?”

“Because you aren’t supposed to be here, son.”

Ben doesn’t know how to take that, and he pulls away to say, “I only wanted to save Rey.”

“But you did more than that. You brought her back from the dead. Jedi aren’t supposed to be able to do that, you know.”

“I don’t care.”

“We’ve been theorizing why you never truly became one with the Force.”

“Because I was Kylo Ren?”

“No, because you used too much energy with that bond of yours. And because you’re not truly gone.”

“Yes, I know, no one is ever really gone. I’ve met one Jedi or two in my life.”

“Your bond should’ve been strong enough to save Rey. A bond like life itself. But perhaps, not two lives. Not very easily, at least.”

Ben narrowed his eyes, “I know that’s why—"

The way his mother is looking at him, with those deep and familiar, brown eyes. And he knows. 

“I love you, Ben.”

“I love you, too.” He answers dumbly. 

His mother leans over to kiss his forehead, “May the Force be with you, always.”

Ben leans into the last embrace, and it feels like forgiveness and home. Until he blinks.

\--

When Ben Solo opens his eyes, he’s facing twin suns setting in the West. He’s wearing the same black trousers and shirt he wore when he died. He touches his right abdomen and the hole burned by a saber greets him.

He breathes for the first time in a lifetime. Looking around, it’s clear where he is and she has to be here too.

“Rey?” Ben Solo calls, full of hope and uncertainty. 

Nothing responds for a beat.

“Hey!” A high-pitched voice calls.

Ben turns to see a lanky girl with a purple lightsaber ignited, poking out of the sub-terranean entryway.

“Are you Desdemona?” He calls, making a guess. 

The girl stumbles. Then runs in the opposite direction, screaming, “Mum!!”

Ben glances in the other direction and is awarded with a familiar sight. His father’s ship. The Millennium Falcon looking better than it ever did in his father’s possession.

Before he can turn back towards the Lars homestead, he can feel her before he can see her. It’s like a low buzzing of a pod-racer heating up then roaring to life. The bond flares back to life, and when he turns to see Rey dropping her defense stance with her saber, he’s already crying. 

“Rey.”

“Ben.”

The Last Jedi launches herself into his arms, and he cradles her head as he swings her in the air. He breathes her in and buries his face in her lose hair, and the bond is singing with them reunited. She wants to know why and how, and he can’t give her those answers but he can hold her close.

“Dad?” A timid voice calls out, and Ben knows the voice. It was the only voice he heard for almost ten years.

Rey reluctantly pulls away, wiping her own tears. She is moving to explain the boy with his eyes and her freckles and his father’s dumb hair, but he already knows. And she closes the gaps of information through the bond. Sharing her fear of their son growing up in the shadow of two different Sith lords. That she led him and the Galaxy to believe he was adopted to save him from some of the pain of those legacies and being Kylo Ren’s son. And how after she told their son the truth after she saw them together. 

“Hello, Ben.” He whispers to his son.

The boy jumps into his arms, pressing his small face against his chest, and for the first time Ben gets to hold his boy. 

“I am sorry it took me this long to figure it out. I didn’t know.” Ben offers while stroking his back.

“Are you a Force ghost?” Benny mumbles, afraid of the answer,

“No, I only went to go recharge. I just didn’t know it yet.”

Ben sets his son down and reaches out for Rey who eagerly rejoins the hug. Over her shoulder, he can see Dez lurking in the entryway, wary. When Ben extends an arm, she tentatively joins. 

The suns go down, they pack what little the family brought to Tatooine on their excursion to help Benny meditate to connect to the force better after their last connection was externally severed.

They pile into the cockpit of the Falcon, Benny and Dez buckled behind the pilot seats. And Ben finally takes his place next to Rey — in the co-pilot seat. 

While Rey is plugging in coordinates, he squeezes her hand tightly, not caring where they go because Ben Solo is already home.

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this bad boy right after seeing TROS weeks ago. I was so down that I didn't get around to posting it until today. 
> 
> Uh, Dez is actually adopted and not another lovechild. She's 15 at the end of the fic, and Rey would be about 30 sooo


End file.
